


Not Going Anywhere

by One_Small_Writer



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29195592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Small_Writer/pseuds/One_Small_Writer
Summary: Steve has a bad nightmare after a mission that Natasha was injured on. It's a normal occurrence after missions where something went wrong, but it doesn't stop it from shaking him to his core. Natasha comforts him.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Kudos: 41





	Not Going Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you get bored in a 10th grade English class, a class where because of the massive dip in your year level's attitude towards school and test results and the fact that your academic program has ended upon moving into senior school, you have to do work you were doing in 5th grade. It's so great, I just love being the smart kid who was forced into a class full of, to be frank, idiots.
> 
> I'm not bitter at all.

It always happened after certain missions, even more than it would on normal nights. Missions where someone was injured, or when they were separated from the group for too long. Whenever something like that would happen, no matter how big that thing actually was, it was expected that when the night after the mission ended and they finally had time to actually sleep, the nightmares would come.

It was inevitable.

Both Steve and Natasha weren’t exactly strangers to nightmares, it was something they both dealt with regularly, at least once or twice a week on a good week. The sad reality was that it was normal, they were used to it. Their nightmares were dark, fluctuating between flashbacks from their past to twisted images their minds created to torture them. Every time it’d happen they’d wake up, hide in the comfort of the other for however long they needed before eventually falling back asleep and getting on with their lives. It was routine.

But nightmares after missions where something went wrong were so much worse. Because no matter what had happened or who it happened too, those nightmares always included graphic images of losing the other, whether it be death, kidnapping, brainwashing, just plain leaving or otherwise, and that was something that neither could ever handle seeing. 

The mission they’d been on this time had been going well until essentially the last minute, when Natasha had ended up in a fight against some evil agent which had quickly become quite one-sided once he’d brought in backup. She was fine in the end, she’d eventually gotten the upper hand, but she was still injured, nursing a broken wrist and some broken fingers, which were luckily on the same arm, as well as quite the collection of cuts and bruises.

And even though she was fine, she’d gone through  _ a lot  _ worse and had made it out the other end, and told him as such, her injuries were still enough for Steve’s mind to be plagued with horrible nightmares when they’d finally been cleared from the hospital and from paperwork and made it to bed.

Nightmares of what could’ve happened if she hadn’t taken them out, if she hadn’t taken control of the situation and if he called for more and more agents to take her down. Nightmares of her getting beaten over and over, the agents never relenting until she was injured enough to die. Nightmares of being forced to watch as Natasha’s hair was strained with her blood, the red it already held becoming crimson. Being forced to watch as she gasped for breath as the air was taken from her lungs.

_ “Nat!” He screamed, running towards where what seemed like hundreds, thousands, of agents had her on the ground, two holding her down as the other however many there were took their turn at her, punching or kicking or shooting or stabbing or whatever else they happened to do with her. _

_ She tried to kick, to lash out and fight back, or at the very least get out of the grip of the two holding her down, but she was too overcome in pain to really do anything. All her strength had just disappeared from her body, there was nothing she could do. _

_ So Steve ran in, shield ready and Natasha’s discarded gun blaring, but he himself, possibly the strongest man in the world, wasn’t a match for that many agents. He was grabbed by the forearms and held back, being dragged backwards. He fought them, elbows going in all directions as he ripped their hands off him, but the more he thought the more agents came over to him. For a few moments, he was glad they seemed to be relenting on Natasha, only to realise what was actually happening. They were overtaking him, they were forcing them to watch. _

_ He hardly even had time to blink before the shield and gun were taken from him, and he himself was being pinned, though by a lot more than just two people. “Watch her, otherwise it’ll get worse,” Some guy growled in his ear, holding his head so he could look at nothing but Natasha’s body withering around on the ground. _

_ There was nothing he could do but scream in anguish as he watched the scene in front of him, his voice hoarse as he called her name over and over. It lasted what felt like an eternity, only ending once the worst thing possible happened. _

_ Some agent stopped on her just and a God awful crack rang in his ears, her already cracked and struggling ribs turning to dust underneath the man’s strong boot. He screamed harder, more and more desperate as she stopped moving, blood pooling from her mouth.  _

_ “Please Natasha, don’t leave me! I need you, please!” _

_ The chorus of agents surrounding him started to laugh manically at her unmoving body, and Steve just screamed harder, wanting more than anything to run to her, to help her and bring her back even if he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to block his ears and close his eyes, pretend nothing this wasn’t happening and that they were just sitting on his couch, throwing popcorn at each other as they watched a movie. He just wanted to be next to her again. _

_ He never wanted her to leave his side, and now she had. He let out another tortured scream. _

Steve awoke, screaming out Natasha’s name desperately as he flew into a sitting position, his heart pounding and breath coming out in ragged gasps. His hand gripped at the base of his throat as he looked wildly around at his surroundings before recognizing it was Natasha’s bedroom, and his eyes flew down beside him to see her start to stir in the covers, broken arm that had previously been thrown over his stomach cradled to her chest. 

“Steve?” She mumbled, her eyes opening slowly as she blinked up at him. She knew instantly what had happened, and could already tell what kind of dream it had been just by looking at him. It was a death dream. Her heart already hurt.

He stared down at her for a few moments, trying to convince himself that is was actually her laying in front of him and not some trick his mind was playing on him, and once he had it took less than a second for him to have her in his arms, hoisting her up to sit on his lap. One hand trailed up and down her body in a frantic search for anything else wrong with her, any added injuries, as the other wrapped around her middle, squeezing her tight to him.

He never wanted to let her go, never, ever wanted her to leave.

Steve was squeezing her so tight Natasha was convinced she was starting to lose air, but as he started to cry desperately into her hair, she ceased to care. Her hands came from where they were behind him, outstretched from the surprise of being grabbed at with the speed and intensity she had been, to wrap around his neck in a tight embrace, careful not to knock her cast against his head.

“Please don’t ever leave me, Nat,” He cried helplessly, “I need you, please never leave me.”

Natasha’s heart broke, and she hugged him tighter, moving to cradle his head. “Oh, sweetie no, never. I’m not going to leave you, I promise.” She knew she couldn’t really promise that. The sad fact of their lives was that every time they went out, there was a very real chance they could end up dead. She could go out on a mission next week and not come back, and he could very well do the same.

But in these moments, it was a promise she knew she had to make. Since she and Steve had gotten together, she started taking more care, stopped being as reckless as she once had been when she had no one but herself to worry about. Even with the pact she and Clint had made when he married Laura and had Cooper, that they’d do their best to calm it down a fraction because they had others to worry about, they still continued to be pretty reckless, her especially. 

But with Steve, she knew she really did have to start to tone it back because she knew that if she died, he would break, he’d fall apart. The sight in front of her was enough to prove that, and she’d never want to put him through that every day. She'd do anything to make sure she was coming back to him each night.

And even if she did die, she was never really leaving him anyway. She was always going to be right by his side, in life or death.

“No, Nat, you don’t get it! You died, you left me!” He cried harder.

“Shh,” Natasha soothed, “I know, I know. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”

She repeated herself until she could feel him start to come down, knowing it was what he needed to hear. She kissed his hair and ran her free hand through his hair as he calmed down, though he never relenting his grip on her.

“Are you okay to lie down now?” She asked gently once his breathing had returned somewhat back to normal, moving to kiss the shell of his hair and then cheek.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, letting her move them so he was laying with his head over her heartbeat. He smiled slightly, the gentle thud in his ear reminding her over and over that she was there, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Steve took a shuddering breath, knowing deep down it would probably make him feel better. “The agents from today, they overtook you. There were a lot more than there had been today and two were holding you down as all the others just had their way for you. I tried to help you but they took me too and forced me to watch as they beat you. Eventually one of them stomped on your chest and you couldn’t survive anymore. You died,” He explained, the occasional tear dripping down his face.

Natasha clicked her tongue, both in understanding and sadness. “Oh Steve…” She trailed off before finding her train of thought. “But that didn’t happen, I got control and came out with nothing more than a broken arm. I let you draw on my cast, remember?” She showed him her arm and he smiled, tracing his name and the heart he drew it in lightly. He was honestly shocked she’d let him do such a thing, but it warmed his heart.

“Yeah, I know, because you’re a super amazing fighter and a badass that still somehow let me draw that heart on your arm,” He sighed, wiping the last of his tears away as his eyes started to drift shut, the desire for sleep hitting him full force.

“Well, I was nice because I love you so…” She teased, rubbing his shoulder.

Steve breathed out the slightest of laughs and cuddled her closer, snuggling into his chest and pressing a kiss to just above the collar of her pyjama shirt. “I love you too.”

Natasha hummed and closed her eyes, exhausted. Steve went to follow suit, but at the last minute snapped his eyes open, looking up at her. “Not going anywhere?”

She nodded, guiding his head back to her chest. “Not going anywhere.”


End file.
